


Grey Sunset

by woodentarantula



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: ......ignoct if u want but maybe im just biased, Hurt/Comfort, i guess, loss and mourning, sorry theres not really shipping just friends comforting each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 11:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10489518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodentarantula/pseuds/woodentarantula
Summary: They all take the Fall differently.





	

After the newspaper in Galdin Quay, after the phone calls made and Cor had tried his best to keep the four of them both distracted and on task, after the Sword of the Wise had crashed through Noctis’s rib cage in a flash of light and shimmering glass, Noctis takes Ignis’s arm and asks him to drive them back to Hammerhead.

Ignis nods. “We could all use a rest before tackling Keycatrich.”

The ride is quiet, with only the sound of Prompto shifting in the front seat every few minutes; even the normal turn of a page from Gladio is gone. Noctis slips his boots off and pulls his thighs to his chest, resting his head on his knees and pulling in small breaths. He stares out the window at the falling rain and the heavy clouds offer nothing.

When they finally do arrive, they all slip from the Regalia and follow Noct into Takka’s where he orders for all of them. He brings the tray of food back to a back booth they normally occupy, handing them all their meal and giving himself only an enormous plate of fries. Ignis holds his tongue, allowing Noctis to have this small thing.

They eat the same way that they drove, in almost perfect silence until Noctis’s hands drop from his face, hitting the table gently and biting his lip, tears carving paths down his cheeks. Noctis tries to tell himself these are just some really good fries but the anger had ebbed away throughout the day, leaving space for only a crushing sadness. A hand slips under the table and Ignis beside him takes it in his own. Prompto’s kitty-cornered from him and can’t quite make it but reaches with his leg to hook his boot around Noctis’s ankle. It takes a second of staring at his plate for Noctis to realize that Gladio hasn’t reacted at all. Gods, if his dad… then Clarus must… Noctis wipes his face with his free hand and attempts to keep his voice steady. “Shit, Gladio, you need anything?”

Gladio’s been looking out the window to give Noct a bit of space but waves a hand at him then. “Nah, I don’t think it’s really hit me yet… I just-” his phone on the table buzzes loud against the plastic table, startling them all. “Shit, that’s Iris. Prompto can I-”

“Way ahead of ya buddy.” Prompto says, sliding out of the booth to let Gladio out.

“Thanks. Yeah I’ll… I’ll let you know.” Gladio nods at Noctis, answering the call and stepping out of the restaurant.

When he’s out of earshot, Ignis sighs. “I somehow doubt he will.”

“We’ll keep an eye on him.” Prompto says, watching through the window pane as Gladio slips behind the building before going back to Noctis. “You alright buddy? I mean, of course you’re not but ya’know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Noctis breaths deep through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, gripping tighter to Ignis’s hand and nuzzling Prompto’s foot under the table. “I dunno. I’ll figure it out later, I guess. But you guys,” he looks at them each in turn. “Do either of you…?” he leaves the question in the air, unsure how to end, throat already closing off again from the tears.

Noctis had never met Prompto’s parents so he doubts Prompto has much of a connection to them, but they are citizens and were probably evacuated as soon as things started going sour. But Ignis. Ignis’s parents died when Noctis was tiny and he has no visual memory of them other than pictures, but his uncle is a chief advisor in the Citadel and was probably as the signing. If his uncle’s morals are anything like Ignis’s own, even if there was a moment to escape, he wouldn’t have taken it.

Prompto speaks first. “I dunno either, man. It’s… weird thinking that Insomnia’s wrecked. Like, can you mourn a city? That’s the worst thing for me.” He shrugs. “Let me worry about you guys.”

Ignis nods. “I… might have to make a few calls of my own, but I think the best for myself is to continue forward,” He mirrors Prompto, shrugging, “and fret over my companions.” Ignis’s thumb draws over Noctis’s wrist and Noctis can’t help but smile, especially when Prompto’s boot makes the same motion over his ankle.

A few minutes pass in a more contented silence until Gladio comes back in. “She’s still on her way to Lestallum,” he says as he and Prompto resume places in the booth. “Just wanted to check in and say she’s alright.”

“That’s good to hear.” Prompto says, “how’s she… taking things?”

Gladio tucks his phone back into his pocket with a smirk. “She’s mostly worried about _me_ , must run in the family.”

Ignis is quick to reply. “As does strength, don’t underestimate her.”

Gladio stares at him a moment, dumbfounded, then laughs a little. “Yeah, I’ll tell myself not to. Now,” he says, picking up his burger. “we all talked about our feelings a bit? Let’s eat and sleep and head back out and we’ll figure it out for real once we have some more downtime.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Prompto cheers as he raises his own food and nearly inhales it. His leg had come unhooked from Noctis’s when he let Gladio slide back into the booth, but now they entangle again, rubber soles knocking together.

Ignis agrees with a quiet nod, one hand taking his meal and the other remaining on Noctis’s wrist, still drawing small lines across his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> the amount of times I've cried into a carton of fries has recently risen to about 5
> 
> what I'm trying to say is, like, if you're dealing with loss or mourning, whatever or whoever it is, what you feel is perfectly okay, even if its nothing. Hell, even if its _relief_. death is different for everyone
> 
> (p.s. there's a word for being homesick for a place or feeling that doesn't exist anymore in Welsh, _hiraeth_ )


End file.
